


The Rush

by nowitsaparty, Sansael



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anger Management, Bars and barstools, F/M, M/M, fem!Bilbo, good-for-nothing relatives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowitsaparty/pseuds/nowitsaparty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansael/pseuds/Sansael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin finds himself in an Anonymous Anger Management Group. And that's fine. That's totally okay. Whatever to please his brother. And not end up in jail. Now if only that stupid ginger would stop bothering him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a really nice challenge, trying to think out of the box, working with the characters I usually don't.  
> Mahal, I am so nervous, I SO hope you will like it, Nowitsaparty. Your art is awesome and I loved the whole idea the moment I saw your entry on HRBB.

 

Dwalin cast a baleful glare at the people in the circle. The whole idea seemed very ridiculous to him. A circle. Really. It seemed to him that a circle was like a bad set-up for a bad movie. Honestly, Dwalin didn’t really think that those Anonymous Anger Management Groups really looked like that. A circle of damn chairs in an old office building. And by old he meant a century old 5-story building with tall windows.

At first Dwalin though that the AAMG would mainly consist of people like him: tall, muscly, with lots of tattoos and overall intimidating appearances. But that wasn’t the case.

The group consisted of people of all sorts: down their luck teens, middle-aged men in pristinely ironed suits, the ones who looked like college professors, the ones who looked like they lived off trouble. There was a tiny woman in modest clothes, and Dwalin marvelled how such a delicate creature ended up in the group. Though, to be fair, their mentor was also a woman, in her early thirties, a bit plump around the edges and with small creases around her eyes. But to be a mentor of their group she had have attended one as well at some point in her past.

Dwalin tried to imagine her in a bar brawl and, and just as he was imagining her landing a punch on someone of his own stature he heard his name being called, snapping his attention up.

"It's your turn, Dwalin. Tell us why you are here," the mentor, her name tag said Bilbo, what an odd name, prompted him.

The man glared at no one in particular and started without any enthusiasm:

"I'm here because I've got in one too many fights recently. It's either this group or public service."

The woman nodded with understanding. Clearly he hadn't been the first one to choose a rehabilitation group.

“I guess it’s your last fight that left you with such a handsome eye?” One of the groupies asked.

“Yes,” Dwalin rolled his eyes. Like it wasn’t obvious, was it? “And my brother signed me up here.”

“I see,” Bilbo nodded. “As I understand, you don’t really want to be here. But that’s okay, many of people don’t want to be here at the beginning. I hope I will help you. Now, though, why do you think you get so much in fights?”

Because it gives me fucking inspiration, Dwalin thought. Because when I bloody hit a jerk’s face I already have music written before my eyes.

“Too much jerks around,” he grunted instead. “They don’t understand when a girl says no, so somebody has to tell ‘em.”

It wasn’t a lie per se. Dwalin indeed smashed his fair share of bar creeps’ sculls. Still, it didn’t really change the fact that every so often there was that itch at the back of his bald head, and on his fist, that meant he wanted to hit somebody, to have a good fight with a possibility of getting landed in a hospital, and with equal chance to land somebody. As it happened, he indeed was almost hospitalized, and was signed up for this stupid group.

The conversation moved on off him and the next person started telling his story.

* * *

 

When the group meeting finally ended and Dwalin was leaving the old building it was held in, one of his group mates fell into step with him.

“I call bullshit,” he said in a bright voice. Dwalin looked at him from the corner of his eye.

The man had auburn hair pulled in a low ponytail, it’s end tucked into the colar of his ratty hoody, making it impossible to estimate the length. His hair was tucked behind his ears, revealing several piercings.

“All that shit about being a bar knight. Bullshit,” the man sign-sang the last word, and Dwalin gritted his teeth.

“Fuck off, shorty, or you’ll get rather intimately introduced with my fist,” he threatened, intended to heed his own words if the other one doesn’t get lost, rehabilitation group be damned.

“That if you catch me,” the other man answered and promptly crossed the road, getting right in the intermisson between two red street lights and safely walking into a small side alley.

* * *

“So how did it go?”

Apparently going for a drink with best friend later the night hadn’t been as great idea as it seemed at the time. Of course Thorin had to ask him about the blasted rehabilitation program.

“Fine,” he grunted intending to not speak of it again, but at Thorin’s raised eyebrow elaborated. “It seemed okay. No one asks for your second name, which is rather the point of anonymous group. We talk about why we ended up in the group, what we probably need to change in ourselves, and all of that shit.”

“And did you tell the truth why you were there?” The other man smirked into his bottle and Dwalin was hard pressed not to shove him off his bar stool. As if sensing his feelings Thorin chided him. “Don’t let loose your fists, friend, or I’ll be forced to report on you.”

This time Dwalin didn’t bother with stopping himself and a few seconds later Thorin was sprawled on the floor laughing uncontrollably.

“No trouble here?” The barman, a lanky man with a blond ponytail appeared on their side of the bar, ready to call security, but Thorin waved him off, not bothering to get up.

“No, its fine, it’s just my cousin is being an ass.”

“If you say so,” the barista answered and with last wary glance went back to his orders.

Dwalin glared at him, and then gave Thorin hand and hauled him back on the stool. They drank silently for some time, and then Thorin spoke again.

“The rehabilitation will lead to nowhere if you keep your secrets.”

“Because it would be such a grand time,” Dwalin drawled, scratching his beard. “Hey, I am a music writer and I beat people for inspiration.”

“At least it’s better than ‘hey, I’m lunatic with anger management problems’,” the other one muttered.

“Let’s make a deal. I will talk on the group meeting about why I am really there, and you will introduce me to your secret girlfriend.”

As Dwalin suspected, Thorin’s face reddened all the way to the roots of his hair, and he shot him a look that would make a lesser soul shit themselves.

“Fuck off,” was all he said to Dwalin’s vindictive glee.

* * *

The next meeting went much the same. There were a few new faces, but the group was more or less formed. Miss Bilbo held the firm control of the group, preventing fights and squables swiftly and with an expert hand of somebody who knew how to deal with large group of displeased people.  

The ginger that buggered Dwalin after the first meeting, now set right in front of him, lazily sprawled on his chair. His hair was in a ponytail again, though his clothes looked better than the last time.

At least his hoodie looked clean.

Dwalin didn't know why he noticed it.

The ginger didn't talk about himself, expertly dodging Bilbo's questions and redirecting her attention to other people, especially to the tiny woman (it turned out she was a sportswoman who beat her trainer when he tried to insinuate she wasn’t good enough for the team). The mentor willingly changed the subject of her conversation, either not noticing being manipulated, or letting it slide. Dwalin secretly suspected it was the later.

His suspects were proved to be true when at the end of the meeting everybody who refused to talk on their turn, were given home task to write down their reasons for getting better, and the ginger was the first one to be handed the paper sheet. Dwalin caught his eyes and gave him a smug look, while the other made an annoyed and disgruntled face, bending it twice and stuffing into his pocket.

* * *

And so the routine began. Stories, exercises for patience, all those counting and breathing technics, it all grated on Dwalin nerves, but he still came to enjoy those meetings in an odd and slightly masochistic way. His mentor very obviously knew what she was doing, and step by step Fundinson could see his groupies unwinding, some getting a somewhat serene look in their eyes. Dwalin counted it as a good thing.

Even speaking for himself, Dwalin hadn't felt the need for a fight since he started the sessions, even despite the fact that he still attended bars. But Bilbo was good influence, apparently.

Besides, the chords came freely to him, so who was he to complain?

What Dwalin was quick to notice was that Bilbo was hard on the ginger, Nori, as he had learnt during one of the earlier meeting. Nori Rison. Apparently Nori was somewhat of a legend in the centre that organised their AAMG, surfing from one group to the other, having attended several 'Anonymous insert-the-title' groups. No one really knew why he was attending them, and what he was actually doing for living, and why, in the first place, he never talked about anything personal, even though this was like a mandatory thing in pretty much group, no matter its line of work.

The man was arrogant, cocky and self-assured to the point of being ridiculous. He loved teasing, sometimes going as far as mocking their mentor, but never really overstepping the line. Still, Dwalin felt like Bilbo was too lenient on Nori. As if she knew him from somewhere. It was not very obvious, but there was that small degree of familiarity between them, that usually exists between people who know each other. But it was very subtle, and the musician sometimes wondered if it was just his imagination.

Soon Rison started to torment Dwalin again after the sessions, coming to walk with him for a few minutes, teasing him mercilessly, but always bailing out before long.

Strangely, Fundinson came to anticipate those ‘few minutes’ which soon turned to half an hour walks, with Dwalin starting to mock the other man in turn, and earning huge smug grins which made Nori’s face look younger than his late twenties. Their word sparing matches were becoming more and more exciting, and they both mocked other groupies with relish, laughing at the tasks their plump mentor made them do.

Dwalin didn't realise that he was looking to these conversations this much until Thorin mentioned that he was becoming ungodly eager to his AAMGs.

"I'm not," he exclaimed, affronted. He wasn't. He really wasn't.

"Well you do not complain anymore, even going as far as mentioning few of the participants, especially that ginger. And you spend time with him."

Dwalin was sure to never have told Thorin about his time with Nori.

"And how exactly do you know that?"

Thorin lifted one eyebrow, eyes going wide, and Dwalin knew that expression well, knew it since Thorin mastered the ability to lift only one eyebrow at the tender age of five. And that lifted eyebrow always meant the same thing.

"Stop lying to me and tell me how do you know that."

"I told you!" This time Thorin looked genuenly earnest, and Dwalin would have believed him if not for the fact he looked too earnest. If there were the perks of growing up with him, it was the fact that Dwalin knew every inch of Thorin's character.

"Filthy liar. Keep you secrets, idiot. But only for now. I'll know them all, sooner or later."

"Sure you will. At the very least I didn't become all defensive when a certain guy was mentioned," his cousin retorted with an unashamed grin. "So what, this ginger keeps your pants in a twist? You want to shag him?"

"Of course I don't! He's annoying and rude, and he keeps nicking my spare coins!" Came an insistent reply, but again Thorin wore a far too knowing look. Thorin knew Dwalin just as well Dwalin - Thorin.

"You don't want to shag him! You want to date him!" The other man said, and to his own horror Dwalin realised that that was truth.

Oh boy, Dwalin was in great trouble.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of HRBB made to Nowitsaparty's prompt.  
> I have to make a smal disclaimer. Because I tried tto write smut. I did try. But I didn't manage, so I decided not to include those god-aweful attempts at all/.

After the conversation with his dear cousin Dwalin even went so far as skipping one of the sessions. But since he wasn’t allowed to skip more than one in a row without a sick note or something equally official, it was with heavy stomach as he headed to the now-familiar building.

Bilbo met him with inquiry whether everything was alright, but didn’t pry when he assured her he was absolutely fine. Dwalin was grateful, because if she did, he wasn’t sure whether he’d say something rude, or would come up with a lie.

But during the session he was being unenthusiastic, and participated only because he had to, and reverted back to glaring at everything around him. He didn’t acknowledge Nori who was trying to communicate with him the usual way, and soon Nori got annoyed and started bothering Bilbo instead.

When the meeting finally ended Dwalin was he first one to leave, but before he even managed to turn around the corner, a hand grabbed him and roughly turned him.

“What do you want?” The musician growled at the very annoyed Nori. The man’s jaw clenched and the grip on his bicep tightened. Dwalin was trying not to feel it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nori hissed. “I though you got that stick out of your arse.”

“I don’t have any sticks in my arse, you bothersome jerk! Why do you even go here? You clearly have nothing of the sort that requires you being here!”

“Well maybe I’d have told you, but apparently somebody decided to revert to being a douchebag again!” Nori shouted at his face and stomped away, crossing the road even more recklessly than usually.

Dwalin stood rooted to the spot. Was it hurt that he heard in Nori’s voice? Certainly he heard him in different emotions, but never upset. In fact Nori always seemed to be cheerful and sarcastic.

But not this time.

Something twisted like searing knife inside Dwalin, and he trudged home with a heavy heart.

* * *

Nori was absent on the next meeting.

And Bilbo kept sending Dwalin disapproving looks whenever she thought he didn’t look at her. Why he deserved such a fate, Fundinson knew not, because he was sure she hadn’t been around to witness him and Nori fight.

Apparently people around him just knew things they weren’t supposed to.

* * *

“You know what, if it turns out you know something you really shouldn’t, I’ll throw your out of the damn studio!” Dwalin hissed at Thorin when later that day, instead of helping him with the equipment, Thorin just kept drilling a hole in Dwalin’s head with his eyes.

If Thorin did know something he shouldn't have, he didn’t reply. His silence just became more pissed off and gloomy.

* * *

A day before the meeting Dwalin got a call from a terribly ill Bilbo informing him that the next meeting was cancelled, but the one after that would be held for sure. She’d be right as the rain by that time, thank you for your concern, keep practicing your calming technic if you need.

So he spent his suddenly free time writing a truly angry piece of music, and then trying to work his way around his apparent crush on Rison. But much pondering never helped anyone in the history of crushes at all, and in the end he decided to act as situation calls it.

If Nori comes at all.

* * *

Nori did come to the next meeting, but he set not on his usual spot in front of Dwalin, but slightly to the left, making it impossible to seek his eyes.

Not like he was trying to catch Rison's eye. It just bothered him that he couldn’t see Nori’s expressions.

Still, as soon as the meeting ended, Dwalin saw Nori quietly slip away from the room, and hurried after the man.

He caught up with him already few blocks down the street and only because Nori suddenly turned around to face him.

"I don't have time," he gritted out. "My brother is ill and I need to buy him medicine. Besides I don't want to speak with you anyway."

It was the first time ever that Nori spoke about his family. Certainly he never mentioned any brothers.

"Is he-- is it serious?" Dwalin heard his mouth speak on its own accord; he didn't even want to ask that. But Nori's face crumpled just a little bit, and he suddenly looked very unhappy and lost.

"Everything's serious when you're sixteen and have asthma and not nearly enough medication."

So a younger brother. Dwalin knew from the moment he saw Nori that he wasn't very well off, but he didn't even think of other family members. Not a kid brother, that’s for sure.

"You take care of him?" Again, the question fell unbidden, but Nori shook his head.

"Our elder brother does. He doesn't really like me spending a lot of time with Ori," at that he gave a hollow laugh. "He says I'm a bad influence."

"You aren't."

And again that hollow laugh, that almost made Dwalin cringe.

"You don't know me. I am bad influence."

But Dwalin wasn't about to listen these self-deprecating talk, and suddenly an urge to make Nori shut up overwhelmed common sense. He grabbed the other man's hoodie with one hand, and the back of his ginger head with the other, and crushed their mouths together, swallowing indignant protests at the rough treatment.

Nori didn't fight him, instead answering Dwalin's demanding kiss with vigour, lapping with his tongue, trying to get more. They kissed roughly, each trying to lead the kiss, hands gripping tightly at each other, probably leaving bruises in their wake, and teeth painfully clashing once, twice, before they finally found the rhythm.

Finally the need for air became overwhelming, and they broke apart, panting hard, but still clutching each other.

"You really are a bad influence," Dwalin managed between heavy breathes, but hurried to continue when he felt Nori stiffen. "But not in a way your stupid brother thinks."

That earned him a real laugh, and Nori kissed him again.

The second kiss hadn't been as rough as the previous, and Dwalin was able to separate different sensations. Nori's stubble catching on his beard, his sharp nose nudging his cheek, hot breath damping it. Nori tasted of bubble-gum and cheap cigarette, and that wasn’t a combination Dwalin expected, but just as the thought appeared in his mind, he realised he didn't know what he expected.

When they separated for the second time, Dwalin saw how reluctant Nori was to step away from his grip.

"I really need to get Ori medicine," he said, pulling off the hair tie of his hair in order to righten the ponytail Dwalin so thoroughly messed.

Fundinson knew that Nori's hair was long, but its ends were always tucked into his hoodies, making it impossible to estimate the length. Now, though, Dwalin saw that the ginger hair was long, almost reaching the man's waist. Dwalin's mouth watered at the mere idea of tugging at it in some highly indecent setting preferably somewhere private.

"If you want I can go with you."

Nori stopped mid-motion, hair half-pulled through the hair tie, hanging in a loop.

"Don't you have job to go to?"

"I'm a music writer. I'm not required to be in the studio all the time."

"You're a music writer?!" Nori exclaimed in obvious surprise. "I'd never even entertain a thought of you writing music."

Dwalin grumbled and pulled at Nori's elbow, stirring him into motion.

"Do you think why I am in this damn group?"

“What, you broke all the guitars?”

“I’m writing music, I don’t even touch instruments on the daily basis!”

“Don’t ruin my very nice dream of you smashing a brand new guitar against the wall!”

They bantered all the way to the drugstore.

* * *

What Dwalin learnt in next few hours was that asthma medication was expensive, and was way out of Nori's pay check. And that when asked what exactly was he doing for living, the man would never answer. Dwalin already had his own suspicions, but decided to leave the subject for now, turning back to the topic at hand, namely Nori not having enough money.

"What about your elder brother? Can’t he add?" But Nori shook his head.

"He's providing for his education and tuition already. Medicines are my job. And I really cannot come home without them!" Nori slammed his hand on the glass in the drugstore they were in, earning a rather disapproving reprimand of the pharmaceutist.

"I can lend you," Dwalin offered.

"No," came a firm reply, with Nori making a stubborn face.

"I thought you'd say that," the musician gave a half-smile to the other man. "Look, I'm not about to give you charity because I stuffed my tongue down your throat earlier the day. I know what it’s like to not have enough money to treat a kid. My cousin has nephews, and when last year Kili fell from the tree Thorin almost got grey trying to find the money in time,” Dwalin fell silent for a moment, remembering Thorin’s panic, when he was calling everyone in the family, driving around the town in circles, and then almost pulling hair out in fear for the boy. When Dwalin looked up, he saw Nori was giving him an odd look.

“What?”

"You mean Thorin Durinson?"

Now it was Dwalin's turn to look at him oddly.

"How on Earth do you know Thorin?"

"His nephew Kili, who last year fell from a tree and broke just about every bone in his stupid body, is Ori's best friend."

"You're shitting me."

"I don't! It's not like used to often meet Thorin, but our mentor also Ori's art tutor--"

"And what precisely does it have to do with Thorin?"

There was a small pause, when Nori was looking at Dwalin as if he grew another head.

"You mean you don't know Bilbo and Thorin have been dating for almost half a year?"

"What?! No!"

"Isn't he your cousin? Aren’t you supposed to know such things?"

"Well he's been keeping his secret girlfriend all to himself!"

"That probably has to do with the fact that she is your freaking mentor in a freaking Anger Management! Maybe he was afraid you’d clock him!"

"Gentlemen!" They both jumped at the pharmaceutist's voice. The woman that was standing before them was tall, with long bark hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder. And she was highly pissed off. "Either you are buying medicine, or you are very welcome to explore your family relations outdoors!"

Both men exchanged sheepish looks, and before Nori had time to say anything, Dwalin turned back to the lady.

"Yes, we'd like to buy those over expansive drugs."

* * *

The bar was full of patrons, music blaring with laughter and voices. Thorin slid into the stool next to Dwalin, but instead of usual greeting he got only a despising look.

"What have I done?"

This time Dwalin grinned to his cousin and sing-sang: "I know all your secrets."

"Like what? That when we were ten I ran away from home but returned before sunset? Big secret," the other man snorted, signalling to the barista to give him some beer. When his drink arrived, Dwalin waited for Thorin to start drinking it, before he spoke again.

"I know you’re dating my mentor, you sodding bastard."

Just as he anticipated, Thorin choked on his beer, spitting it everywhere, coughing hard. Dwalin gleefully cackled, but in the end he slapped his back, helping him to catch his breath.

"So I take it you finally eloped with Nori?" Was what Thorin first said upon finding his breath again, and it was Dwalin's turn to chock.

"How do you—No, don’t answer that it’s all Bilbo, isn’t she? You and her,you had a bet, or what?!"

"Not a bet per se, but when you were assigned to Bilbo's group, we decided not to introduce her to the family just yet. And then she told me you and Nori were spending time together, and since she's friends with him it was only a matter of time Nori told you about us. The you were having cold feet, and now you know who my secret girlfriend is. It doesn’t take a Sherlock Holmes to deduce this."

"Shrewd bastards," Dwalin grumbled, but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry with Thorin. Annoyed for the secrecy, yes, but not angry. But then a though occurred to him. "So who did Bilbo beat up in her past? She must have. Come on, tell me, I’ve been dying to know ever since I saw her."

Thorin shifted uncomfortably, but then started speaking.

"Long story short there was one dick harassing her. But because he was filthy rich, it was Bilbo who had to go to AAMG. Though it gave her an opportunity to escape him. And then ultimately it gave her an opportunity to meet me."

They kept silent for few moments, but suddenly behind them the shouts erupted and a beer mug flew right next to Thorin's head.

"HEY!" Both of them shouted at the offenders, seeing that the previously peaceful atmosphere of the bar turned to hell, with two of the patrons fighting another one.

"That's Dori, Nori's brother!" Thorin exclaimed in disbelief. And indeed, the victim of the two did bear certain resemblance to Nori. And he was doing an admirable job at holding his ground against the two offenders.

"I thought he was a proper fusspot? Isn’t he supposed to be at home right now?" Dwalin asked, cracking his knuckles. Suddenly there was an urge that he hadn't felt for couple of months already, the rush that wanted to erupt. At that very moment the musician dearly missed all the bar fights he ever participated in.

"What does it matter?" Thorin shouted, and rushed to help the man.

What happened next, though, was a bit of a blur. There was a fight that soon turned to much more people beating each other. But the last memory of the day that Dwalin had was a surprisingly short man knocking punching him right in the head, effectively knocking him out.

* * *

Dwalin woke up to a pounding head, faced mashed into a pillow on Thorin's coach with no memory of how he got there. He lied there for few moments, but then decided he needed to get up. When he tried to move, though, his body protested, bruised muscles screaming in extersion.

"You better lie there," a familiar voice spoke. A voice tha by all means shouldn't be in Thorin's flat.

"What the hell?"

"You beat half a bar before they knocked you out," there was a laugh in Nori's voice. Dwalin turned head and saw the other man sprawled in Thorin's armchair."

"You've been out for the whole night. Thorin didn't want to admit you to the hospital, because that would turn up in your case and you really don’t need that. But he had also to go to work, so he called me. So here I am, missing a day of honest work, instead babysitting your unconscious self."

Dwalin’s head still felt far too heavy, so instead of trying to navigate through everything the other man said, he simply asked:

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon. You better get yourself together; the meeting is in few hours."

At this Dwalin let out a loud groan.

"You can't be serious."

Suddenly a coach next to him dipped and Nori's face appeared right above Dwalin's, far too close to not be an intentional gesture. The toothy grin was also a dead give-away.

"I am deadly serious."

"Why was your brother in a bar while your other brother is sick?"

Smile disappeared from Nori's face and he leant back and away from Dwalin.

"You're such a dick. Way to kill the mood."

"Well then? I think I deserve to know why I got beaten."

"Well he was there on busyness matters, and apparently it didn't go that great."

They were silent for few moments, Dwalin feeling his headache receding bit by bit.

"And it's you who's bad influence? I don’t remember you mentioning bar fights on the AAMGs." He finally wondered, making Nori bark a laugh. The other man leant over Dwalin again, planting hands on both sides of his head.

"I am just about to show you what a bad influence I am," he said and greedily kissed Dwalin, to which the other man gladly responded, burying his fingers in ginger hair, effectively messing the ponytail.

* * *

They both turned up to the meeting late and Bilbo both gave them a stern reprimand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a weird desire to write more of them.


End file.
